


Dancing in the Scorpio Sea

by winlark



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Scorpio Races - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Capaill Uisce, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, POV First Person, POV Remus Lupin, POV Sirius Black, Sirius Black & James Potter Friendship, Slow Burn, Thisby Island (The Scorpio Races), Young Remus Lupin, Young Sirius Black
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29817066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winlark/pseuds/winlark
Summary: **Having read the Scorpio Races is completely optional, Dancing in the Scorpio Sea uses it as a setting but there are no characters from the Scorpio Races, and plot does not rely on knowledge of the Scorpio Races universe**Every October, the dangerous yet alluring Capaill Uisce make their way onto Thisby's shores, and every November, they leave a body count of tourists and locals alike. The bravest and the most foolish men gamble at the chance to take part in the Scorpio Races- a grueling race fueled by the sickly sweet magic of the November Sea.Remus Lupin has raced eight times and won six of those years- a feat unmatched by anyone on the island. Yet many regard him as cursed, an offering spit back by the very sea they worship. However on his ninth year he is given a task that not only puts his job in jeopardy, but his life as well when the heir to Black Racing decides to enter the races. To keep himself alive is no small feat, but to keep Sirius Black alive as well will take nothing short of a miracle.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 2





	1. Remus: 9 Years Ago

I feel the water take me under. Again and again it drags me down, my torment alternating between metric tons of pressure on my chest and the feeling of teeth that are no longer Equine in nature snapping at my ankles. I know in my heart that there is no chance of surviving this, that the Scorpio Sea is wicked and absolute, but still I push for the surface.

And for one breath then another, my head breaks through the waves. Just as quickly as the air enters my lungs, I’m smashed downward again. The water around me churns red, and I see a long face with eyes like the devil approachingme from the depths below. The stallion, black as pitch, shoots straight for my side and I am lost, floating in a November sea like all the other dead boys that this island claims.

Then I am found, being pulled to shore by fisherman that should know better than to be on the sea like a day like this. They call me a miracle and kiss my forehead as though my misfortune will somehow buy them luck, as though I am to be celebrated when my whole family now lies in the depths of the Scorpio Sea.

“You’re one of them now, boy.” The man who comes to retrieve me from this Hospital says. He is a large and imposing man, and I know him immediately as Orion Black, owner of The Noble Black Yard and most of Thisby. Behind him stand two boys, though I do not know their names and they do not offer them.

“I’m one of what?” I ask, blinking in confusion.

“The Capaill Uisce. They chose you, cursed you, and now you belong to them, which means,in effect, that you belong to me.”  
The way that he says it is so business like that I don’t have the energy to fight him. There is of course my parents house on the south side of the island, but I am ten and I don’t know what use it would serve me. Instead I just nod as though I know what he’s on about and say as plainly as I can manage. “Are you offering me a job?”

He turns his great head to look at the two boys, and shoos them away as though they were no more than bothersome gnats. “You use whatever black magic they gave you and win me my races boy, and I’ll give you a roof over your head, food in your stomach, and ten percent of the purse you win. Do we have a deal?”

My stomach churns at the thought of what he is asking, but I look him dead in the eye and extent my bandaged arm to shake his hand. Jobs are not easy to come by on this island, and orphans are not granted any graces. “We have a deal.”


	2. Sirius

The island is alive again. I feel it the second that I wake, thrumming in the floorboards of the manor and into my veins. It sings its seductive siren song of the beloved Capaill Uisce crashing onto the shores, the thrill and the chaos of the races. It promises life and death and everything in between, but most importantly, it promises freedom.

For the next month, my father will be too preoccupied with his odds and his races to pay any attention to me. His eyes will shift from burrowing a hole into the back of my skull onto his prized possession. Remus Lupin has raced for him for eight years and returned six first place wins. His first year he drew third, and his third year he lost his mount Maol into the Scorpio Sea due to no fault of his own.The rest of the years regardless of horse, regardless of odds, he has won. And like clockwork my father pretendsas though Remus is a creature of his own creation before turning him back to his small corner of the yard to bid his time, an unwanted ghost banished to the furthest reaches of the castle.

So as much as I get a pang of jealously every time I see him swing up upon the back of Tine or Feamainn knowing I will never sit where he does, there is a small bit of gratitude that I owe him for the time he buys me now.

I slip into a pair of trousers and pop a fitted sweater over a freshly pressed collared shirt. Only once I’m dressed do I realize I’ve missed my braces, but the whole ordeal of dressing seems too much when the world outside is crying for me to join it. Instead I tuck my shirt in, rake a hand through brown curls that will be hidden by a hat, and move soundlessly towards the stairs.

There is just as much of an art to this as riding. If I can get down the stairs, past the staff and past Regulus’ room, I know that I am in the clear. It’s no different than a spooky Thoroughbred fresh on the track. If you can keep him straight and his eyes off the shadows, you will know what it means to be a man that can fly.

I gently tip toe down the stairs, grab a hard hat and slip my feet into wellies that I should replace but haven’t gotten around to yet. I open the door, and though I do not fully shut it behind me, I exhale into the crisp autumn morning knowing that I am free. My father would never bother to look for me in the stables, and if the stable hands care that I take a horse out, they do not say it. After all, these horses belong to me as much as they do my father, and the timid mainland boys are too scared that they will winter without a roof over their heads for trying to quantify percentage.

I decide quickly on a small bay broodmare named Skip that I know my father intends to sell at this years auction. She stands just 16 hands, but she throws lovely sport horse foals that have gone onto international competition. Unfortunately for her, she’s refused to take to the stallions the last year, so will be a sorry loss.

I grab only a bridle, forgoing a saddle completely and swing up onto her back in one fluid motion. The younger horses would surely have me in the dirt for this, but she is kind and forgiving and doesn’t hold it against me. As we exit the yard, I think for a moment that there is someone who slips out the gate after us, but I can’t be sure. We trot for only a few minuets before I open her up into a hearty and forward canter, my fingers cemented in her mane just in case a rouge sheep scares her.

I have ridden since I was young, but I do not always trust myself. For one, every other boy I know has at least sat on a water horse if not raced one. Our father forbid us to ride the Capaill Uisce, saying that it was beneath the House of Black to ride the creatures that made us so famous. For while Thisby is an island defined by it’s monsters, he was glued to the idea that they were simply a poor mans novelty; a way to exploit the coins from Mainland men and make sure the working population of Thisby remained only the fittest and the brightest our tiny patch of land had to offer.

We careen through the landscape, cutting through farms and fields, braving hedges and ditches. At one point we fly so quickly that had it not been for my handful of mane, I would have slipped right off over Skip’s shoulder as she threw herself over a ditch neither one of us were prepared for.

“Sorry.” I say earnestly.

She tosses her head as though she appreciates this, although I don’t know if she knows what I’m saying. Regardless, she does seem to know where I am going, and delivers me to the beach in record time.

“About time you lazy arse!” I hear a familiar voice call. James Potter, heir to Potter’s Pastries and my best friend on the island is already sitting on his lathered thoroughbred gelding, staring out to the sea.Much like me, he finds the prospect of watching the horses come out of the ocean to be the highlight of the year. Unlike me, he will be looking for a prospect for next years race, as well as preparing for the race this year.

“Sorry, you know how it is!” I say and look out to the sea from our search on the cliffs.

“Look.” He says, pointing further out. At first I see nothing, then a dark head breaks the surface, just momentarily enough that I can see it’s sleek outline.

“They’re here.” I say. And if by magic, the beach seems to explode as two horses, skirmishing and squealing, tumble onto the shore of Thisby.


	3. Remus

I see Sirius leave the yard and I know in my heart, that somewhere on this island there is going to be trouble. I could hardly sleep the night before, and I spent much of it tossing and turning in my small cramped space above the stables. I assume, like me, that he knows that the horses will start emerging today. I assume, unlike me, that he hasn’t the faintest idea what he is doing and that probably will either get him killed or me sacked.

But I had more important things to worry about- and first and foremost, I need to make a decision that will shape the course of the race season.

I turn back from the gate after making sure that it is properly latched, and I head into the smaller yet more ornate barn that houses the beautiful Capaill Uisce. For many years I told myself that I would never love them, that each time I rode I would curse them in my fathers name, but they have grown on me much to my dismay. We have four this year. Maol, a striking chestnut mare with a bald face who I caughtfor a second time two years ago and whom I hope to race this year.Tine, a bay with no speed but a kind mind, Feamainn who I will turn back to the sea due to his age and a large striking dappled grey stallion I refuse to name because he is good for nothing but murdering men. Still, he is fast, and Mr.Black will expect me to hawk him to an unsuspecting rider before the races become official.

I get to my chores, working carefully and quickly. My pockets are lined with deadly berries and my gloves are knit with flecks of iron. It’s not enough, but it buys me some comfort. Many a fool goes overboard in this department, however I know that the charms they sell to mainland riders are of little to no use.All they do is anger the horses, and that’s the last thing you need when the air is so close to turning and the sea starts to sing it’s siren song.

I work through each stall, moving the house to a spare stall to clean it, and then moving them back. My stomach has become use to the smell of rotting meat and the noises it makes when it hits their pails. Unlike normal horses, the Capaill Uisce run off of blood and flesh instead of of grass and oats. It’s what makes them so fearsome pounding down the beach in a way that only a predator can muster. A land horse, even if they could survive in the thick of the battle, would have nothing on these creatures. The only way one might even stand a chance would be if it was to track absolutely straight on a windy day, but even then the outcome would always favor the Capaill.

I quickly rush through the Grey and then I too make my way to the beaches. I don’t know exactly what I am expecting, but the ocean’s call is strong, and there is nothing in my power to deny her.


End file.
